


It Came Just the Same

by Lanning



Series: Identical Series [3]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Reality, Christmas, Humor, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-12-24
Updated: 2002-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-03 12:27:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lanning/pseuds/Lanning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Third part of the Identical Series. The Grinch pwns Lex Luthor; Clark and Lex each buy some clues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Came Just the Same

"We agreed.  No presents."

 

Oh, Lex sounded pissed.  Really, really pissed.  And this was so not a surprise.  Clark curled the ribbon with a dramatic swipe of the scissors and glanced over his shoulder.  Lex _looked_ pissed, too.  He looked hot when he was pissed.  And even hotter when had on nothing but boxers.  Clark looked away hastily.  "You took long enough.  Is there any hot water left?"

 

"As diversionary tactics go, that is profoundly lame, Clark."  Lex moved to the bed to snatch up a sweatshirt of Clark's, then grimaced as he pulled it over his head.  "We agreed.  You can just take that back from wherever you got it."

 

Clark managed not to tell him he should still be in bed.  After all, no mere bullet hole or bacterial pneumonia could slow a Luthor down, oh, no. God, he was a pain in the ass.  Clark restrained a powerful urge to smack the moron upside his shiny head. "Who says it's for you?"

 

Lex's eyes narrowed as he struggled into a pair of Jonathan's sweat pants.  "You've put your parents' gifts under the tree already."

 

Clark shrugged and set the wrapped box on the end of his bed.  "Maybe it's for Lana.  Or Chloe.  Or—"

 

"Take it back."  Lex eased himself onto the side of the bed, gritting his teeth.

 

"What do you have against presents?"

 

"Nothing."  Now his jaw was all hard, like Clark's dad when he'd rather die than talk.  "I have a philosophical objection to sentimentality in general."

 

Clark couldn't help laughing at him.  "Since when?"

 

"Clark."

 

"You are so full of it."

 

Lex squirmed up to lean back against the pillows at the head of the bed, glaring. "I want to go to sleep."

 

"It's only nine o'clock!"

 

"So? Are we waiting up for Santa?"

 

Clark sighed.  Time to get some Christmas cheer going here.  "Fine.  Do me a favor first?"

 

Lex sighed and looked at him, his jaw softening, his mouth trying hard not to turn up in one corner.  "What's the favor?"

 

"It's a big one.  You don't have to, okay?"

 

Lex frowned, leaning forward.  "Is everything all right?  Those idiots in the van haven't tried anything, have they?  I can tell Eli to call—"

 

"No, it's bigger than that."

 

Lex's eyes widened.  "_Bigger _than—"

 

"And I really don't want you to feel like you have to, Lex, because you probably won't like—"

 

"Has my father—"

 

"—doing it and I don't want to put any pressure on—"

 

"Damn it, Clark, just tell me what you need and I'll do it!"

 

"Good."  Trying to conceal his exultation, Clark pulled a book from under the roll of wrapping paper.  Lex was so easy.  "I need you to read this to me."

 

Lex stared blankly.  "You need me to what?"

 

Clark climbed into bed beside Lex.  "Read this."  He put the book in Lex's hands.

 

Lex's eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed.  "No."

 

"You said you would."

 

"I did _not—_"

 

"You said you'd do whatever I needed."  Whatever he needed.  Oh, boy, don't go there.  Clark ignored the warmth of Lex's body and tapped the cover.  "And I need you to read this."

 

"Why?  Why on earth would you need—"

 

"Because it's Christmas.  And because I'm too old to have Mom or Dad read it to me."

 

"Which begs the question—"

 

"You never get too old for this story, Lex."  Clark opened the book.  "Come on, you must have liked this one when you were a kid."

 

"I'm happy to say that I've never laid eyes on this thing in my life.  What is that green furry thing on the cover?"

 

Clark snorted.  "Don't give me that.  Every kid reads Dr. Seuss."

 

"I read Aristotle."

 

"Liar."

 

"I read Aristotle and I liked it."

 

"Come on."  Clark leaned against Lex and turned up his wheedling to full power.  "You said you'd do anything.  You're a man of your word, aren't you?"

 

Lex lifted an eyebrow.

 

"To me?" Clark added hopefully.

 

Lex sighed. "This is because I used all the hot water, isn't it?"

 

"Read."

 

"I'll buy you a bigger water heater."

 

"Read."

 

"You do realize that this character is a crass marketing tool of corporate America—"

 

"Read it, Lex."

 

"—which offers vulgar sentimentality and mass consumption as simplistic solutions to complex socioeconomic problems while—"

 

"You're not getting out of this."

 

"—cynically purporting to reject the values of the essentially materialistic culture it has helped to create."

 

"The longer you put it off, the longer you'll wait to go to bed."

 

Lex muttered something that Clark was certain was obscene, and picked up the book.  _"'Every__Who down in Whoville liked Christmas a lot...'"  _He paused. "I want it understood that I comply under protest."__

 

"So noted."  Clark grinned and draped his arm around Lex's shoulders.

 

Lex sighed and continued, leaning almost imperceptibly into Clark's embrace.  "'_But the Grinch, who lived just north of Whoville, did NOT! The Grinch hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season! Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.'" _

"Maybe he had a philosophical objection to sentimentality," Clark suggested.

 

Lex paused long enough to shoot a lethal glance in Clark's direction.  _"'It could be his head wasn't screwed on just right. It could be, perhaps, that his shoes were too tight. But I think that the most likely reason of all may have been that his heart was two sizes too small.'  _Now, here—" Lex jabbed an accusatory finger at the Grinch's small heart.  "Here we see a flagrant and callous mischaracterization of the physically challenged."

 

"Oh, put a sock in it, Lex."

 

"That is an actionable piece of libel."

 

"He's not talking about his _real _heart, you asshole.  He's talking about...you know.  His metaphorical heart."

 

"Tell that to the ACLU."

 

"Just read."

 

Lex snorted. _"'But whatever the reason, his heart or his shoes, he stood there on Christmas Eve, hating the Whos, staring down from his cave with a sour, Grinchy frown at the warm lighted windows below in their town. For he knew every Who down in Whoville beneath was busy now, hanging a mistletoe wreath.' _ They must have decimated the countryside for miles around to have harvested that much mistletoe."

 

"Lex, will you just—"

 

"I'd hate the Whos, too, if they perpetrated an ecological apocalypse outside my living room window."

 

"The Grinch doesn't have living room windows.  He lives in a cave.  See?  Cave."

 

"The Whos probably bulldozed his house looking for more mistletoe.  '"_And they're hanging their stockings!" he snarled with a sneer, "Tomorrow is Christmas! It's practically here!" Then he growled, with his Grinch fingers nervously drumming, "I MUST find some way to stop Christmas from coming!"'"_

"You know," Clark said mildly, "You do a great Grinch voice, Lex."__

Lex didn't look up.  "Does the Grinch shove meteorites down people's shorts, Clark?"

 

Clark grinned.  "No."

 

"Then any further comparison is moot."

 

"If you say so."

 

"'_For tomorrow, he knew all the Who girls and boys would wake bright and early. They'd rush for their toys! And then! Oh, the noise! Oh, the Noise! Noise! Noise! Noise! That's one thing he hated! The NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! NOISE!'  _First eco-terrorism, now harassment.  I'd have the entire Who organization flat on its back with an injunction before they hung another purloined mistletoe wreath."

 

"I'm really starting to think you're mental, Lex."

 

_"'Then the Whos, young and old, would sit down to a feast. And they'd feast! And they'd feast! And they'd FEAST! FEAST! FEAST! FEAST! They would feast on Who-pudding, and rare Who-roast beast, which was something the Grinch couldn't stand in the least!'"  _Lex paused for a moment.  "Do we ever find out exactly what this Who-roast beast is?"

 

Clark contained his exasperation with difficulty.  "Lex, for crying out loud—"

 

"Because the wording here could give one the unfortunate impression that the Whos practice cannibalism."

 

"That..."  Clark fought back his shock at the sacrilege and tried again.  "That is _sick_, Lex." 

 

"I call them like I see them, Jiminy."

 

"You see them _whacked, _mastermind."

 

"Authorial intent rarely reveals itself in a surface reading, Clark.  One must delve deeply into the subtext."

 

"You've been delving deeply into Toby's pain pills again, haven't you?"

 

"I'm serious, Clark."  Lex bent over the book, examining the text.  "The author is obviously a master of subtlety and inference.  He's attempting to challenge cultural taboos and undermine established societal values without drawing the fire of the cultural elite."

 

"_Dr. Seuss_?"

 

"Are you sure this is a children's book?"

 

Clark bent to peer into Lex's averted face, pressing closer, only to realize that Lex was shaking with suppressed laughter. "Oh, for God's sake.  You dumbass."

 

Lex's laughter finally escaped him, loud and hard. "I'm serious," he wheezed, starting to cough.  "Don't…be lulled…by the simplicity…shit."

 

"See?  That's what you get for badmouthing Dr. Seuss."  Clark slipped behind Lex and eased him back against his chest.  "Just breathe for a minute."

 

Lex rested his head on Clark's shoulder and struggled to stop coughing and steady his breathing, clutching the maligned book in one hand and Clark's forearm in the other.

 

"Better?" Clark asked gently as Lex began to relax.

 

"Yeah."  Lex's grip on Clark's arm loosened, but he didn't let go.

 

Clark slipped his other arm around Lex's waist.  "You've been pushing yourself too hard.  Ease up a little."

 

"No time," Lex muttered.

 

"Make time.  You need to be strong to do what you have to do, Lex."

 

Lex was silent for a moment, then managed a weak snort.  "I always know I'm in trouble when you start making sense."

 

Clark chuckled and tapped the book.  "Flattery gets you nowhere. You still haven't finished reading."  Lex didn't answer right away, and Clark tilted his head to get a look at his face.  "Lex?"

 

"My mother used to read this to me on Christmas Eve when I was little," Lex said in a strange voice.

 

Clark closed his eyes and leaned his head against Lex's.  "I thought you read Aristotle."

 

"No, you didn't."  Lex's voice was quiet now.

 

"No," Clark murmured.  "I didn't.  Keep reading, Lex."

 

"Only if I can skip to my favorite part."

 

Clark smiled.  "Which part is that?"

 

Lex flipped the pages.  _"'__He stared down at _Who_ville. The Grinch popped his eyes! Then he shook! What he saw was a shocking surprise. Every _Who_ down in _Who_ville, the tall and the small, was singing. Without any presents at all.  He **hadn't** stopped Christmas from coming. It came!Somehow or other, it came just the same.'"_

"Yeah," Clark said softly, opening his eyes to watch the turning pages.  "This is my favorite part, too."

_"'And the Grinch, with his grinch-feet ice-cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling: "How _could_ it be so?" "It came with out ribbons! It came without tags!" "It came without packages, boxes or bags!" And he puzzled three hours, till his puzzler was sore. _Then_ the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. "Maybe Christmas," he thought, "__doesn't__ come from a store." "Maybe Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more." __And what happened __then__? Well...in __Who__ville they say that the Grinch's small heart grew three sizes that day!'"_  Lex fell silent, his hand caressing the page.

"Do me another favor," Clark said quietly. 

Lex's laugh was hollow.  "What now?  Horton Hears a Who?"

"No.  Open this."  Clark touched the present with his toe.

"I can't," Lex grated.  "I appreciate the gesture, Clark.  But I can't accept it."

"Why not?"

"I can't…reciprocate."

Clark lifted his head and craned his neck to stare into Lex's flushed face.  "You can't what?"

"Reciprocate!" Lex snapped.  "The balance transfers from my mother's estate haven't cleared yet."

Clark groped for comprehension.  "You won't open a Christmas present because—"

"I'm not—"  Lex cut himself off and lowered his voice. "I'm not a charity case, Clark."

"_Charity?_"  Clark groped for comprehension, stung.

"I already owe you and your parents more than—"

"You're a moron, you know that?" Clark snapped, managing not to punch him in the head.  "You are beyond stupid."

"I won't—"

"You think my parents are helping you out of charity?  You think I'm giving you a Christmas present out of _charity_?"

"That wasn't what I—"

"You're our _friend._"

"I didn't mean—"

"This is what friends do, Lex.  They help each other.  And they give each other presents sometimes.  You've helped us, haven't you?  It goes both ways.  That's the way it works, okay?"

"I know—"

"You'd do the same for me if I was in trouble, wouldn't you?"

"I would do anything for you." Lex's voice was all over the place.  "And your family."

Clark tried to rein in his temper.  "God, you're a pain in the ass."

"I don't doubt your friendship, Clark."  Lex was breathing too hard.

Lex was a few hay bales short of a loft.  Yeah, Lex was a few cows short of a herd, and getting mad didn't help.  Clark sighed.  "I know.  I know you don't.  But you have an awful funny way of showing it."

"I'm not...  I'm not used to..."

"What?"  Clark hazarded a guess.  "Being poor?"

"Being indebted," Lex rasped.

"For what?  Oatmeal and hand-me-downs?"

"Don't try to trivialize it," Lex snapped. "You're all risking your lives for me, every day, and I can't even pay for my damn keep."

Clark took a deep breath and tried again.  "This isn't a hotel, Lex.  This is our home.  Nobody pays for their _keep_ here.  Please tell me you're not going to insult my parents by offering them money."

Lex sighed the sigh of the long-suffering and closed his eyes.  "Money is an insult?"

"Money is an insult."

"Are your parents from outer space, too?"

"Lex.  No money."

"Jesus Christ, Clark!"

"You want to pay them back?  When you're back on your feet, ask them if you can help out around here."

"Help out?"  Lex turned to him with a bewildered expression.

"It's too dangerous for you to go outside, but you could help with the house."

"The house."

"Yeah, the house.  As in, vacuum the floors in the house.  Wash the dishes in the house. Do the laundry in the house."

"Oh."  Lex looked disconcerted.  "I can do that."  He cleared his throat.  "I did laundry once."

Geez Louise.  "Oh, good for you, mastermind." 

"I scarcely think _housework _will prove an intellectual challenge, Clark."

God only knew what he'd just set loose on his unsuspecting parents.  "Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

Lex waved his hand. "Please.  How hard could it be?"

Clark sighed.  "Do me a favor and ask Mom to show you, okay?"

"Oh, ye of little faith."

"Are you kidding?  I've got loads of faith.  I just don't want to see my mom break down and cry, that's all." 

"Clark."

"Yeah?"

"When I sent you the truck, did I offend you?"

Clark turned to face him, startled.  "No!"  Then he saw the look on Lex's face, and got it.  "No," Clark said gently.  "You didn't offend me, Lex."

Lex studied him.  "If you had been anybody else besides Clark Kent, would I have offended you?"

Clark laughed a little.  "Maybe."

"You saved my life," Lex said quietly.  "I wanted to thank you."

"I know.  But you'd already thanked me.  The truck was great, Lex, but it was over the top.  Being friends was enough.  You know?"

Lex fell silent for a second.  "Did I offend your father?"

"Lex, you're thinking too much again."

"I want to know."

"Yeah," Clark sighed. "He didn't like the idea of me accepting a present bought with Luthor money.  And I think maybe..."

"What?"

"Maybe it hurts him that he can't give me stuff like that."

Lex went quiet again.  More thinking.  He just never stopped.  One of these days he was going to blow a fuse.  Or whatever passed for a fuse in that oversized brain of his.  "I see."  He took a quick breath.  "I can't give you anything either, Clark."

Clark felt his stomach drop.  Oh.  "Lex," he said unevenly.  "Am I being a jerk?"

Lex actually laughed, tilting his head up to look Clark in the eye.  "No more than usual."

Clark's face went hot; he fumbled to explain.  "It's just…I wanted…it's Christmas."

"Breathe, Clark."  Lex was smiling now, his hand moving soothingly on Clark's arm.  "Give me the box."

Clark leaned forward enough to grab the present by the ribbon and hauled it close.  "It's…it's not really a present."

Lex's eyebrows rose.  "It looks like a present, Clark."

Clark managed a weak laugh.  "Appearances can be deceiving."

"It has a ribbon.  And wrapping paper with some sort of marshmallow people on it."

Clark rolled his eyes, resigning himself to more chain-yanking. "They're snowmen, mastermind."

"I stand corrected.  Wrapping paper with malformed mutant snowmen on it.  But it's not a present?"

"No."

Lex gave him an uncertain look. "A loan?"

Clark glared in exasperation. "Don't be stupid."  He lifted the box and set it between Lex's legs.

Lex scowled at the box.  "If it isn't a present and it isn't a loan, what is it?"

"Guess you'll have to open it to see, won't you?"

Lex touched the ribbon tentatively.  "I hope you realize that this attempt to manipulate me is pathetically obvious."

"Yeah." Clark grinned.  "Works, though, doesn't it?"

"Like a charm."  Lex slid the ribbon off and shook the box.  "It's heavy."

"No cheating."

"I wouldn't dream of it."  Lex slipped his long fingers into the side folds and popped them neatly open.

Clark laughed in surprise.  "Nice technique." 

"Thank you."  Lex slid his hands over the paper as if he were memorizing it.

"Lex, just rip the paper."

"I don't want to rip it," Lex said quietly, popping the top seam.  The paper fell away, and Lex studied the cardboard box intently.  "Clark.  How did you know?  I've always wanted—"

"Lex, I swear to God I'm going to slug you."

"—my very own ten-speed blender."

"Open the box!"

"What shall we make first?"

"Open the box or I'll feed it to you."

Grinning, Lex opened the flaps on the top of the box and looked inside.  His grin faded; he went very still.  "Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"What did you do?"  It was a hushed whisper.  Lex reached into the box and pulled out the first comic book, still neatly sealed in its plastic sleeve.  "What…what the hell did you do?"

Clark smiled. "See?  Not a present."

"Jesus Christ."  Lex turned to him with an aghast expression.  "You went to the house.  You went _into the house_—"

"Karloff's in Metropolis, Lex.  There's nobody there but—"

"But the entire security contingent!"  The comic fell from Lex's hands as Lex turned to grab Clark's shirt, staring up at him.  "Have you lost your mind?"

Clark curled his hands over Lex's, startled. "Don't spaz!  They never saw me.  Nobody ever knew I was there."

"The cameras.  The alarms—"

"Eli told me where they all were."

"_Eli? _Did that bastard put you up to this?"  Lex lunged for the phone, but Clark caught him in his arms and held him still.  

Lex froze there, and Clark spoke urgently in his ear. "Lex.  Nobody put me up to it.  I wanted you to have your things back.  I want you to have your whole _life _back, but I can't do that.  So I wanted to give you back some of the things that are important to you."

Lex turned to him, breathing too hard and eyes too bright.  "You're demented.  You're...  Clark.  There is absolutely nothing in that house that is more important to me than you.  Do you understand me?"

Lex had never looked like that before, had never sounded like that, had never pressed so close, and Clark understood.  He really understood – that it wasn't just him. Clark felt the heat rise to his face again, and an enormous weight lift; he nodded silently, not trusting his voice.

Lex pulled back a little, and Clark could see how hard he was trying to get his Luthor face back on.  He did a lousy job.  "Do your parents have any idea that you risked your life for a pile of my comic books?"

"I didn't risk my life," Clark said.  His voice wobbled a little, and he cleared his throat.  "There's nothing in that house that can hurt me, Lex."

"Except witnesses!  If you ever pull a stunt like that again—"

"I don't suppose this is a good time to tell you that there's more under the tree."  Clark braced himself for the impending explosion.

_"More?"_

"Oh, yeah," Clark said in a resigned tone.  "A lot more."

Lex sighed. "Exactly how many times did you commit felony burglary, Clark?"

"Counting this one?"  Clark thought about it.  "Eleven, I think.  No.  Twelve."

Lex's jaw dropped. "You...you circumvented my father's security _twelve times_?"

"It was easy."

"And you explained all this to your parents...how, exactly?"

Clark knew his face was going red and lowered his eyes.  "I...um, didn't.  Really.  I told them Eli got the stuff for me.  I mean, he did help."

"You lied to them," Lex said quietly.

"I guess."

Lex released his grip on Clark's shirt and flattened his hand against Clark's chest, his eyes dark.  "No more, Clark.  No more trips to the mansion.  No more lying to your parents."

Clark sighed and met his eyes.  "Okay."

"I mean it."

"I know."

"Clark."

"Yeah?"

"Being friends is enough."

Clark nodded, letting loose a gust of air.  He really wanted to kiss Lex for that.  He'd never wanted to kiss a guy before.  "Okay.  It's just—"

"Christmas.  I know."  Lex was smiling now.  Really smiling.  He leaned back against Clark again, picking up the comic and drawing his long fingers lovingly over the cover.  "Thank you.  For bringing it all back."

"Whatever you need."  Clark ignored the goofy smile he knew was all over his face and settled them both back against the pillows, pulling up the covers. "Read it to me, Lex."

Lex gave him a look that made Clark feel warm and right, right down to his toes, and chuckled as he drew the book out of its sleeve.  "Merry Christmas, Clark."


End file.
